Reflections on my inner and outer worlds.

Let Me Help (9/17/2014)

Sickness fills my stomach.
No longer are they butterflies.
But disgusting sickness.
How can I be of help to you?
I can’t help.
It causes sickness in my stomach.
Please let me help.
The sickness is corroding my entire being.
I can’t keep up.
My body can’t rid the sickness any longer.
The butterflies died and are corrupting my being.
I can’t hold it in.
The sickness is traveling throughout my body.
Why can’t I rid this filthy pest?
Why can’t I get rid of this sickness?
This feeling of being worried?
Please, let me help you.
Let me aid you and help you not feel this way.
I can’t feel better knowing that you aren’t well.
I can’t just hope that you’ll feel better.
Because I know how hard it is to face this by one’s self.
Please let me help you.
Please help me get rid of this sickness.
Please…
I’m deathly worried about you.
I want to help you feel better.
I can’t help you feel better if you won’t let me.
The butterflies you gave me are dying.
Because they are so worried.
I’m so worried, please.
Please let me help.
The tears are rushing down my face.
I’m so pathetic.
I can’t help.
My tears won’t stop because I can’t be of any help.
My mind is racing and the tears are falling.
I can’t get what I’m trying to say written down.
But writing is all I can do to open my heart.
My heart is blocked.
My mind is shut down.
I can’t think straight.
The only thing I can think of is helping you.
I can’t stop thinking of what if…
What if you just off-ed yourself right now.
I don’t know how I could get over you.
What if I didn’t try hard enough to help?
I want to help so badly.
I can’t think straight.
I can only think of helping you.
Please let me help you.
Please, just let me help you get through this.
I don’t want you dying over a temporary problem.
I don’t like knowing I can’t be of any help.
I know I’m not of much help.
But I try to be.
I try to be of help.
But I can’t ever be of good help.
I want to help.
So please let me help you.
Please…
Let me at least try…

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